Lateral Thought...

Apocalyptic dreamscapes are fun to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.

2010-12-04T22:08:00.005-07:00

*dusts off the blog and gets out the jumper cables to give the old girl some juice*... *Bzzzzzzzzzzt* IT'S ALIVE!!!! AAAAHAHA HAHAHAHA
HAHAHAAHA!!!!... ehem...

Hello again, it's been a while, but guest blogging on a friend's regularly updated blog made me miss doing this. As I am pretty much off the grid (no interwebz at home, no cable/satellite and only my trusty CrackBerry to keep my updated on FaceBook) I really don't have a way to post regularly. I do however have friends with internet access :D. I babysit for a friend of mine fairly often, and I am able to use her computer when the kidlings are asleep. So, if I can keep it up, I will try to write out a post once in a while, and just upload it when I get here. Anywho, on to more interesting things!

I sometimes go though a period a couple of months or so at a time, where every dream I can remember is somehow about the end of the world as we know it, whether it be zombies, aliens, or some other earth shattering event. Now, normally one would think that it would be somewhat nightmarish, having every remembered dream be about the end of humanity as a whole, but they are actually quite pleasant. Mainly because I am always in control, and usually had super powers. I've listed a few of the more memorable dreams below:

I was in downtown YK, for the most part, and something fairly vague was happening which made everyone panic and try to run for cover. People were going insane, looting, arguing over canned goods, and searching desperately for their missing loved ones. Another select few were changing, as it were. They were being granted super powers, and I was one of them. Unfortunately, this caused most of them to go insane and start to cannibalize people. I started to struggle with the feeling that I was going mad, but was able to overcome it, unlike my brethren. I killed off the ones who went crazy with the change, and started flying around looking for people I know to take to a safe place. I had the ability to create safe bubbles. Nothing harmful could get through them, and they could be as big as I wanted them to be. I wound up taking people off to homesteads we'll call them, where they could live their lives in peace, and I brought them supplies regularly.

Another dream was set around a cabin in the woods at the base of a mountain. I was with my friends, and there was a magical event about to happen that would destroy the majority of the world, and we were trying to prepare for it. We had most of the supplies, and we were going to take refuge in the cabin, out of the main cities, so we would not be disturbed by the crazed masses. We needed to make one final supply run, so we all drove out to the city again, and I was going to pick up magical supplies. The next part I remember is a friend asking if he can drive down the mountain again, and doing a horrible job of it, so I shoved him in the back of the van after he ran us into a tree, and drove the rest of the way. I don't remember much after that.

The last one I'll tell about here took place in YK again, and it started on the city bus. There was a voice in my head that told me that I have the power to either save the world, or let it end, depending on whether I was strong enough. I asked if I could have one perfect day before this happened, and it was granted to me. I was suddenly transported back in time to that morning. The day was sunny and warm, and I didn't have to go to work. I went fishing, I spent time with my daughter and other relatives (both alive and dead), played video games with my ex-husband and had wonderful food and did everything that would make up a perfect day in my books. All the while, people kept pointing to the sky and saying how odd the northern lights looked, even in the daylight. As the day progressed, they became more and more intense. I knew that this was because of the world ending event that I was supposed to try and stop. I told people to just ignore it. At the end of the day, I wound up on the bus again, but the Northern Lights were so intense they were almost blinding. We stopped at one of the elementary schools in town, and as I got off the bus, the lights formed a swirling vortex. I stepped in the end of it, and was lifted up for all to see. The voice in my head told me that because I spent my perfect day with friends and family, and not with material objects, there was some hope for humanity, and that we would be spared, but that we were to take this as a warning to change our ways. I don't know what happened after that, as my alarm woke me up.

I always relish my world ending dreams. There is something so invigorating and freeing about them. No work problems, no worrying about money, and the only thing you have to think about is how to survive. I've often found myself wishing I could be stranded on an island somewhere warm where I had no worries at all. I guess that's why so many Northerners flock to the tropics every winter. That and the -40 winters.

As a side note, I Googled "end of the world" for images to add to this blog post, and it's fascinating what you come up with... Also, the whole end of the Mayan calendar thing, Dec 21st, 2012... I realized that the date is also my employee number at work... 12-21-12... I saw it on a shirt I kinda want to buy now.

In the long run, it's all ok, because in the long run, we'll all be dead. So we may as well relish every expriance, both good and bad while we can.

2009-03-01T12:52:00.003-07:00

I was thinking about the year when I was on a bursary trip to Montreal for a month and a half to "learn to speak French". Really what I learned was "how to get into bars underage". All in all a great life lesson. I was thinking in particular about the odd adventures I'd get myself into. I'm all about experience, both good and bad, as many of you who know me well can attest to, and I thought I'd post here one of the better ones I had while on my trip.

I was about 16 and fully developed by that time, I was never small, but I still had an hour-glass figure and flowing dresses suited me well. We were on a day trip from Montreal to Quebec City, and I was down to literally my last dollar. I had brought some fruit, and a sandwich from the cafeteria back at the college we were staying at. I had a thin coat with me, and wearing one of my favorite dresses, a princess cut I think it's called, where it's tight around the chest area, and then flows from that.

When we arrived in Quebec City at 8am, I was preparing myself for a long day of wandering on my own, as I was about the only person who did not have money to get into the museums that the rest of the group would be going to. I was perfectly fine with that. After all, some of the better adventures started off with me left to my own devices. I spent the morning sitting in a park under the leaves of a tree, as it was raining. I saw an old lady digging through the trash bins looking for either food or recyclables. When she got to the bin by my bench, I handed her my sandwich and my orange (the only thing besides crackers that I had to eat the whole day). So now I was down to my last dollar, had little to no protection from the on again, off again affair the rain was having with Quebec, and I had the very basic grasp of the french language to get myself around. But I was still enjoying myself greatly.

I guess I looked a little out of place, because this is when I was approached by a fellow who was handsome in his own right, but spoke about as much english as I spoke french. I soon realized that he was asking me to supper. I was, of course, hesitant, but he pointed to an expensive looking Italian place just across from the park I was sitting at. I had some of the best pasta I've ever had, (and a couple glasses of wine) along with garlic bread and cheese cake for dessert (yes all before noon. When offered a quality meal, do not quibble about the timing). Much better than crackers, I have to say. We talked for a couple of hours and then we went for a short walk through what he called "art alley". It was an alley, filled with artists and their paintings. This, of course, made me wish I was not so broke, as there were several that I would have loved to bring back with me. We wound up back at the park, where he pulled out from his pack sack a sketch book, and a very elaborate looking pencil set, and set work to sketching me. Once he was done, we chatted for a while longer, then he took his leave of me.

When I met up with my friends later, I told them what hap pend, and none but my fellow Yellowknifer's believed me. Then one of them asked what his name was, and it was then that I realized that we had never even introduced ourselves to each other.

I haven't told this story to may people, as the majority of the responses I receive are more of concern for my safety then of enjoyment of a lovely occurrence. To each their own.

I have a couple of other Montreal stories to relate, but I think I'll save them for other posts. So for now I shall leave you with the answer from the last riddle:

Peanut, sorry but balcony was not the correct answer. He was tired of what he was doing in life, which was washing the windows of high rise buildings, so he opened the window on the 22nd floor and jumped inside.

A black dog sits in the middle of the intersection of a town which is painted black. None of the street lights are working due to a power outage caused by a storm. A car with two broken headlights drives towards him, but turns in time to avoid hitting him. How could the driver have seen the dog in time?

Because of online comics, I now want a zombie head on a stick...thanks internet, thanks.

2009-02-26T19:52:00.001-07:00

So yeah... it's been a while. Peanut yelled at me, in so much as Peanut yells at anyone. It made me pout :(. I had said back in... HOLY FRAK SEPTEMBER?! So it would seem. Anywho, I said way back then that I would speak next on Evolution, and what I think the next steps are. I have now tattooed it somewhere on my person (I may show it to you if you ask really nicely and take me to dinner first) that I am to never...EVER say that I will next speak on evolution. It seems to be a blog killer for me. All blogs I've had, and I've had a few, have ended abruptly as soon as I mentioned doing an evolution post. Although it is one of my favourite topics to discuss, every time I go to write some of my points down, I re-read and it seems to me that I sound like an ass. So, to summarize....fuck evolution. In fact, fuck ever making a promise to post about anything specific ever again. I said in my "about me" section that this is for random musings, and I shall stick to that thank you very much.

If you do, however, wish to know my thoughts on evolution, I would be more than willing (especially if you are buying the coffee) to discuss it with you at a local establishment. If I were to post anything here, you'd miss the awesome hand gestures and faces I make when I really get excited about it, and honestly that's half the fun of talking to me.

I've been told that my posts are overly verbose. Well, actually they said "long blog is long", so I think I'll try to keep these to bite sized musings.

The long awaited (like....REALLY long awaited) answer to the thingy....er...the thingy with the stuff...um...what's that word... OH! The Riddle (thanks for the help at the back). The answer to the riddle is, it was a women's boxing match :)

Here's another one!

A fellow was staring through the window on the 22nd floor of an apartment building. He was sick of what he was doing in life and wanted it to end, so he opened the window and jumped. He landed unharmed without the aid of anything to cushion his fall or slow his decent. How did he do it?

I've always wanted to see an episode of Bat-Man and Robin where they are trapped in a vat of manure, so I could hear Robin say "Holy S#$@% Bat-Man!"

2008-09-23T22:40:00.002-06:00

Kids these days! I was talking to a friend of mine, who has a teenage daughter, and they were complaining that when they were young, they would have never had the nerve to talk to their parents the way that she talks to them. This got me to thinking, when I was young, did I ever make demands of my mom? I'm pretty sure that I did not. Although I can assure you that it had nothing to do with fear of her wrath. That was reserved for Grandma. That woman can stop a sugar infested 3 year old at a 100 paces, from even thinking of doing anything bad with just one firm "Hey!" It had nothing to do with a fear of being belted, or even smacked upside the head, although I'm sure all of us deserved it at some point in our youth. It was more to do with the tone. Or I should say, it was the lack of that tone when she was just speaking to us normally. Both my grandparents were fairly calm people, so when they were angry at you, you knew it. I remember hearing Grandma use that voice on my grown uncles, and watching them stop what they were doing in an instant, and thinking "Man... I gotta get me that voice".

But, back to the teenage me. As I said, my lack of disobedience had nothing to do with fear, but more of a knowledge which a lot of my more rowdy peers seemed to ignore. As a teen, I had it damn good. Mom asked me one day why I never rebelled. I gave her an odd look and say "from what?". I had free room and board, money whenever I wanted it, I could go out whenever I wanted, and had a reasonable curfew, which I could get away with breaking, so long as they had notice. I had minimal chores to do, and I knew that if I needed it, I could call them to come and get me if I got caught somewhere without a ride. Why the hell would I want to rock the boat by tossing hormone driven tantrums about crap that, in the long run, didn't matter one damn bit. Don't get me wrong, I argued with her on some points, such as what I did with my money, but other than that, we got on pretty well.

I think that my lack of teen angst driven disobedience had a lot to do with my mental make up. I can see situations fairly logically. I am also pretty good at seeing things from other people's point of view. This does however tend to mean that I make a lot of sacrifices for the ones I love. Don't get me wrong, I don't let people walk all over me, but there is very little that I won't do for a friend or loved one, so long as the same respect is given back.

I am also a fairly calm person, much like my grandparents. I am slow to anger, excepting if it involves someone bugging my kid, and I am able to take things in stride. This has a lot to do with my "go with the flow" attitude. If life is taking me in a direction, I usually let it, and try to get as much out of the experience as possible. This is not to say that I will just sit on my ass and let things come to me, I mean, if I did I would have no job. However, I'd much rather enjoy the view than to waste the experience trying and paddle up a quick moving river, to keep the nautical metaphor going. For instance, if a friend were to show up at my house, tell me to get my stuff on, I'm going somewhere, but they won't say where, I'd be off and away with no problem at all.

People are always apologizing to me if we happen to be in a situation that they can't help, and that they think may make me uncomfortable. The way I see it is, they can't help the situation, and honestly, I am bothered by very little. In this respect, I am able to handle change better than most. When something comes along that I have to deal with, whether it be big or small, you don't think about how this could happen to me, or what did I do to be in this situation, you just deal with it. It's the same in emergencies. When I was young, I had seen one of my uncles take a chain saw to the leg. I was quite young, but I remember clearly yelling to him to stay there, and running to get help, as I knew there was nothing I could do but that. No panic, no standing about thinking "what to do what to do". I just did it. I went with the flow of the situation.

Anyways, enough of the self-evaluation. Here is what you REALLY read these things for...

Friday:

Liette got it spot on, the horse's name is indeed Friday... and the second Annon, I assume was Sam or possibly Katy, as I doubt that Peanut would go ooOOOOOooo....that seems more like a Sam prefix.

Two boxers are in a boxing match which is scheduled for 12 rounds, yet after 6 rounds, one knocks the other out, yet no man threw a punch. How is this possible? NOTE! This is NOT kick boxing, so I'll have none of that nonsense!

I promise there will be a better post next time...as next time the topic will be... *dun dun duuuuunnn* EVOLUTION! More specifically, what I think our next few steps will be.

Balls balls said the queen, if I had them, I'd be king!

2008-09-21T22:28:00.002-06:00

So yes, with the past re-post from a former blog of mine, I simply copy-pasted, and completely forgot about answering the riddle, or posting a new one. So here is a double dose, although this one will be short. I wouldn't want you to fracture an eye with all this reading I thrust upon you.

Answer to the barrel riddle:

A hole.... although I do think that Peanut's answer is a valid one, that being Light. I should have phrased it "and if put into a barrel will make the barrel weigh less." So, kudos to you Peanut! As a prize you win.... Free Quilling lessons whenever you choose. I even make house calls.

Next Riddle:

A man rides into town on a Friday, and three days later he rides out on a Friday again. How is this possible?

The Migratory Patterns of Lost Clothing (Re-Post from past blog)

2008-09-21T22:23:00.001-06:00

This is a serious study that I have done on the migration of lost clothing. It started when, after a period of days, I witnessed a pair of jeans move a block down a walking path apparently of its own accord. When the jeans were first spotted, it was "nesting" (folded) in a snow bank. It was then seen the following day perched in a tree looking timid and trying not to stand out in its unfamiliar surroundings. I later saw it farther down the path huddling at the edge of the brush looking a bit more comfortable with where it was and perhaps trying to create a makeshift home for itself.

The question of why clothing suddenly disappears from ones house, or how one ends up with extra clothing has always been a mystery to humankind. My theory suggests that perhaps these clothes are trying to get back to their natural roots, or find a better home for themselves.

It is known that nature is a force that is strong in all living things. It gives plants the strength to push up through solid concrete to reach the sun. It gives salmon the staying power and drive to make a trip thousands of miles against the current and through dangerous waters to lay/fertilize eggs then die. It gives birds the instinct and direction needed to navigate their way over half the globe to find the same nesting areas every year. With this said, it is then reasonable to say that perhaps it also has the power to awaken in what is thought to be a lifeless bit of clothing the general memory of once being a part of the natural cycle. Most clothing still has at least some natural fibers in it. Some more than others, which accounts for why certain items seem to be more frequently found trying to re-integrate itself then others would be.

Some articles of clothing can be seen trying to nest as the jeans were, but others can be found trying to migrate. This is where you find strange clothing in your house, or clothes, which you knew you had are suddenly missing. It is known that birds migrate with the warm weather, and that sea turtles travel to their original birthing place, as do certain fish. The reason why clothes would chose to move from one house to another is unknown for certain, but there are a few suggestions that are plausible.

The first being that they are looking for a place that they will be more useful, or perhaps better taken care of. There have been several instances where a person has been looking desperately for something to wear to a function or date, then while searching through closets, they find say, a skirt that they never knew they had but would be perfect for the occasion.

Another reason may be that they are looking for their original "spawning" grounds, or a place to breed, as the need to reproduce is a natural urge found in most living things. There can be some danger in this though as cross breeding or a bad match-up could result in say tube socks, or a sweater that no person in their right mind would wear willingly but kindly old relatives around the world find and send out with the thought that you would look just adorable in it.

With the migration or reintegration of clothing into the cycle of nature, also come certain perils that are familiar to all creatures that live in the wild. The main ones being predators and human interference. There have been several instances where socks or shoes have been found torn into small pieces by dogs, their natural predators. There have also been reports of clothing being hung from power lines or being destroyed by youth that do not realize that they are disturbing that particular shirt's only chance to be part of nature again or to find a proper mating area.

More research is needed on this project, but I feel that it is a worthwhile subject to study. This discovery now means that we must review our treatment of clothes. There is a need for more humane washing methods. Clothes should not be bought and sold with out a thought of how the new owner will treat it. The term "wear and tear" should not be used as lightly as it has in past, as it is now referring to a life with needs of its own. And all labels should be banned, as they are a cruel form of tagging. Humans must learn to care for the things they create, or they might find themselves with out a damn thing to wear.

My Minds Eye is in Wide Screen

2008-09-16T21:08:00.003-06:00

I've always marveled at the inner workings of ones mind. For example, we refer to this unseen person as our subconscious, and speak of it/them as a separate person inside us. The one who knows better. There is a surface us, and an us at the back of our mind that thinks much more clearly, who has full access to our cataloged memories and dreams, and can see the actions we take, and can calculate with eerie accuracy the repercussions of said actions. They are the ones who know the dewy decimal system to our library of experiences, and yet don't feel the need to share that information with us.

In most cases, the only time we realize that a part of us knew what was going to happen is when we are kicking ourselves, hoping to hit the part of us that's grinning and saying "I told you so, you bloody big oaf". I can't help wonder why it is that that part of us is not in control. Wouldn't it be better to have the bit that can think clearly in charge?

I did a bit of an amateurish experiment once. There is a game called Brain Age for the Nintendo DS that is meant to exercise your brain. A lot of you will know which game I am speaking of. It tells you in its intro that different parts of your brain are used when you are doing different tasks, just like when you exercise different parts of your body. For example, reading out loud, doing simple math problems, solving a riddle and matching colours with words use different bits of brain matter.

I went into the game where you are given a set amount of time, and it asks you as many simple math problems as you can answer in that time. When my main mind, or over-mind is in control, then it seems that I have to think of it and I don't do as well as I should be able to. I then tried to just not think of it and let my subconscious take over. I did quite a lot better that time around. It seems to be akin to a sort of mental instinct. Parts of my mind know the answers already and are quick with the response, but the over-mind doubts, rethinks, and sometimes wrongly changes the answer that the subconscious mind provided. This is one reason why you should not go back and change your answers in multiple choice quizzes.

For each action, your mind is completing hundreds of small calculations to make sure that that task gets completed. When you catch a ball, your subconscious has to calculate the speed of the ball, the trajectory of the ball, analyze the surface on which you stand to ensure you don't trip, or how hard it's going to have to work the legs to get going to the right spot, where to position your hand to catch the ball, and so on. Your over-mind does not even consider this. It thinks, ball, hand up, catch, and that is that. If your subconscious is making these calculations, it is reasonable to conclude that this would explain other daily phenomenon. I for one find it a little odd how often I go to grab a bunch of paperclips to complete a job, and wind up grabbing the exact amount that I will need.

There are those out there that claim to have the supernatural ability to predict the outcome of events. I am not about to try and say that they are all wrong. Especially speaking as one who started crying and carrying on over a song that reminded me of my Grandfather for no apparent reason the day he was admitted to hospital in another Province days before I was to be told that he was dying. Or even as one who, as a child, heard the phone rang, looked up at my Grandmother and announced that my best friend Nesta was dead just as she picked it up to hear the same news from my Aunt.

To assume that we know that these things can't happen is quite arrogant of us. What I am saying however is that a good portion of them may be explained by a keen subconscious pointing out the obvious to us.

I'd like to see how well my subconscious would do in the driver seat so to speak. I imagine it would be like falling into a deep sleep, then awaking to find that you have advanced in life farther than you thought you could. I wonder if you would be a different person with the over-mind in the background.

It is also possible that having the subconscious in charge would be disastrous. That there is meant to be a fuzzy blanket between the surface you and the inner you. I for one would like to find out. Perhaps ridding ourselves of the fuzzy barrier is the next step in evolution. Either way, I will be doing everything I can to try and thin out the separation between my subconscious and my over-mind. If I start changing personalities, let me know.

Riddle answer:

You ask the man which of the two roads lead to his home village, and go there. If he is a liar from Faseville, then he will point to Truthville as a lie. If he is a truthful man from Truthville, then he will point the way to his home village.

What has no weight, can be seen with the naked eye, and if you put it in a barrel, it will make the barrel lighter?

Offski!

I'm Painting my Chicken's Nails Green

2008-09-12T18:50:00.002-06:00

Chicken feet…..I'll say it again…. Chicken feet.

There will be a great clash of cultures in my near future, and I will be a part of it. It seems that there are a lot of nations that would put a claim to the best chicken feet recipe, and we are to put said claims to the test! Participants will bring in their best of the worst bit of the bird. We will have a representative from the Asian cultures, the East Indian area, and the Jamaicans will also be weighing in for this monumental event in culinary footsie.

I myself will be representing the Caucasians, much to the dismay of some. There is something of a fear amongst the Jamaican team that I will "ruin chicken feet for all", as I have never tried to cook that bit of the bird before. Although I was somewhat put off by the comment, I will not be deterred! After all, no one would have ever thought that their bobsled team would make it into the Calgary winter Olympics, but John Candy wouldn't have lied to us!

I'm thinking I will attempt to psyche out my Jamaican competitor by randomly making comments such as "perhaps chicken feet ice cream….that would be two things you love combined!" If I can, I will put them off sucking poultry toes for good as recompense for the lack of faith in my abilities to create a foul footed delight.

I have to say that I feel quite lucky to live in a society where people from different cultural backgrounds can collide and learn about others. A teacher of mine once gave a lecture on how societies mingle with each other. She had stated that the USA is a melting pot, which takes the people coming from different parts of the world, and then dips them into the cauldron to be stirred and boiled until they are as watered down and "American" as the rest of the floating chunks. They give a little to the flavour, but are eventually taken over by the broth, and soon all you can taste is the added MSG.

Canada she described more as a b-52. For those not aware of this creamy concoction, it is a shooter which layers different liqueurs in a way that each keeps their separate colour and taste, and are only combined when downed. Each layer has its own identity, keeping their flavour and characteristics, mixing only a little where they meet.

I myself would take a tasty drink over salty broth any day.

Now, for the answer to yesterday's riddle:

The clever prince took out a grape, and before anyone could see it, he put it in his mouth and ate it, then told the King he could see which grape he took by looking at the one left in the bag. Thus gaining the hand of the lovely princess, and saving the executioner from having to sharpen his axe.

Today's riddle:

You are walking along, when you come to a fork in the road. One way is to Truethville, where everyone tells the truth, and the other is Falseville, where everyone lies, but there are no signs telling which is which. There is a man standing at the fork, who you know lives in one of the villages. You want to go to Truethville, but you do not know if the man will tell you the truth or a lie. You can ask him one question, what do you ask, and where do you go?

Offski!

-Deadnick

After Thoughts and Etcetera

2008-09-11T19:53:00.000-06:00

I’ve noticed that the longer the post, the less likely it is that anyone will read it. I may try an experiment one day by putting up an exceptionally long post, starting off with the telling of a dream, and then going into insulting everyone who I send the post to. I would be able to determine who actually read the post by the amount of friends I lose.

Had another dream about my teeth rotting out of my mouth. I have pretty good dental health, but it seems to be a reoccurring theme in my dreams, about once every month or so. I’m somewhat afraid that if I lose a tooth in reality, I may think that it’s a lucid dream, as I have a lot of those also, and try to do something odd. Such as float, or paint someone blue.

Here’s a riddle for you;

There was a King who had a beautiful daughter, whom he loved dearly. He knew that she would have to marry one day, but he dreaded the thought. He decided to challenge all suitors to a test. He would put two grapes in a black bag, and tell the fellow that if he pulls out the green grape, then he would be able to marry the princess. If he pulled out the red grape however, then he would be put to the chopping block. What none of the young men knew though, was that the King had put in 2 red grapes, to ensure that there would be no marriage.

A year went by, with many hopeful suitors, and many pairs of boots for the executioner. One day, a clever prince came to take the Kings test. To the King’s dismay, the fellow was able to out fox him, and was married to the Princess with in a year. How did he do it? One note, he did NOT peal the grape to make it a lightercolour, so none of that cheekiness. The solution will be on the next post, whenever that may be.

-Deadnick

P.S. How have you been former Relish Boy? How’s the new job and such?

P.P.S. I know that there is no real point to using “Post Script”, or especially “Post Post Script” online, as it was originally used to add a note after you had hand written something, and did not want to start the letter again. In this technical day and age, where handwriting is poor, and typing skills are essential, you can go up and alter the original writing at any time. However, I still like to use it anyways. Just because something is not needed, does not mean it can’t still be used.

Meditation

2008-09-10T19:53:00.000-06:00

I dreamt that I was meditating at home. There were several people there with me, all in their own room in my house. I slowly emptied my mind, and then I felt myself lift off. I was completely at peace inside. I left my body, and then opened my eyes. I was in a room with a giant person who was working on something, or concentrating on something. They looked like they were held together with energy.

The place I was in was somewhat like a Salvador Dali landscape. Simple, but deceiving in the way that it does not look to be real. I looked up at the person, and said "hello". They turned around, and looked at me in astonishment. They looked about to see if anyone else could have said hello, somewhat like you would look about for another source of a voice coming from your cat. They put their face close to me, and said "how did you get here?" I smiled at them and said "I was meditating, then I lifted off, and when I opened my eyes, I was standing here." They smiled a big smile, and radiated a glow which I could only describe as being excited. They said that I was the first to ever make it this far, that no one was ever calm and at peace with themselves enough to be able to transcend the reality we know and step into the reality that actually is. I told them that the people had gotten so caught up with themselves and took things so seriously that they couldn't really get to that point. Even the people who give up everything they own and stop consuming toxins and tell themselves that they are sacrificing it all for true enlightenment, are deceiving themselves, because they take it so seriously. They may live longer, but really, what have they lived?

They asked me how I live in comparison to the spiritual seeker. I said that I don't try at all. I just, go with the flow, and the flow takes me where I should be. I don't try to achieve enlightenment, I just let it come to me. I set no real goals, and as a result have had many interesting opportunities arise and many adventures. The less I plan, the better off I seem to be. They smiled the big glowing smile again, and asked if I would come back and tell them more. I said that I would come back often and tell them all they wanted, so long as they told me about them in turn. It was agreed that I would come back often to talk to this creature so we could find out more about each other.

When I next returned, it seems like I had never left, there were more of them. About 5-6, all with different features, but the same basic large person with an energetic glow to them. They wanted to know all about the people of Earth, how we lived, the achievements of our societies and what our beliefs were. I spoke for hours on end describing with ease all the things they wanted to know. We both agreed that structured religion was one way that we lost track of the way here, as it made us try to ignore and made us feel shameful of our connection to everything around us.

When it was my turn, I asked them if they created us. They looked at each other, and said that we were something of an experiment, but not in the crude and often cruel sense that I knew. There were several worlds like our own, each different and each with its own set of basic laws of physics. They left a way for beings to enter to where they are, but the only creatures to come through were non-intelligent. Creatures working off basic instinct, who followed the ingrained path, but had no way of comprehending or communicating what had happened. They were thinking that the whole experiment would not amount to anything. They were thinking of giving up, thinking that no civilizations existed in the worlds when I showed up standing there. I asked how we would know to get there if we were not told how to look for it. They said that we were, and that it was part of our make-up, but we must have lost the way over time, when we lost our connection to the flow of the world around us.

After the conversation ended, I left again with the promise to be back as often as I could, and to tell peoplee to go with the flow of the world, to see if they too would find their way there.

This is when I woke up, when in the dream, I found my way back to "reality". These sort of dreams are always so anti-climactic. You always think that somehow you would come to some great conclusion, or insight into the human condition. That you would be able to gleen some new information about yourself or the world around you, or that you would at least feel a bit more enlightened, but usually it's all stuff you already knew deep down, just put in a way that you could comprehend and that makes you question things a bit more. This is what I get for reading Tom Robbins right before bed. Oh well, back to bed.

-Deadnick